Smooth Like Butter
by AMiserableLove
Summary: Jess ponders her relationship with Russell. Their lack of passion. The promise of passion with a certain roommate. All centered around an annoying little fight about...butter. One-shot.


**Ok so New Girl fiction is severely lacking here. Although the stories that are posted are absolutely wonderful! :)**

**I told myself I wasn't going to write another fiction this week, but lately New Girl, while still hilariously amazing, has really been stingy with the Jess/Nick moments.**

**After watching Tuesday's episode and devouring the fics that were posted or updated, I felt the itch to write something that kind of still goes with what's going on in the show. **

**A lot of Jess' inner dialog...what she could (emphasis on the could) be thinking. **

**It's a short (kind of) one-shot, and was written hastily at work, when I was feeling grumpy about the lack of Jess/Nick interaction...so yeah read and REVIEW.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own New Girl  
**

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She was with someone.

And she was happy…kind of.

She felt safe and taken care of…

Secure.

And she was incredibly and undeniably, without a doubt bored out of her mind.

Sighing, Jess looked at the clock in her classroom and watched as the hands slowly ticked their way around the numbers. Her students were quietly finishing up their assignments. Which left her with nothing to do but sit at her desk and pretend to be very important and teacher like. And while she knew she should at least attempt to appear busy, she couldn't bother with it right now. She was in the middle of dissecting every piece of her relationship with Russell.

Russell.

He was handsome, kind, smart, considerate, and he treated her well.

But there was something lacking.

There was no passion…no spark.

She had told herself multiple times that she didn't need to have a fiery passion with someone in order to be happy. Fiery, passionate, _successfu_l, relationships probably didn't really exist anyway. They probably only existed in romance novels and movies. Real life was all about stability, companionship, and consistency.

Fiery passion had no place in adult relationships.

Right?

Biting on her lip she shook her head at her inner thoughts.

She was a bit eccentric, she was slightly immature, and she had the tendency to be impulsive. She was aware of all this. Maybe she wasn't ready for a 'big girl' adult relationship. Frowning, she tried to reason with herself, she tried to argue with her inner voice that she _was_ ready, but then her inner voice argued that even if she was ready for an adult relationship...why sell herself short?

Why cut out passion?

Because maybe passion, real passion doesn't exist. She argued…with herself.

HA!

And then her inner voice had the nerve to bring _him_ up and she almost groaned into her coffee mug as she took a sip.

She had no business thinking of her roommate when reflecting on her relationship with her current boyfriend and their lack of passion. But his smug and smirking face kept weaseling its way into her mind. Her grumpy, scruffy faced roommate, who liked to dress like an old man, and was constantly challenging her in the most aggravating albeit somewhat exhilarating ways.

He would fight with her about anything. And she really did mean_ anything_. Their current battle of choice was whether the butter belonged on the kitchen counter or in the refrigerator. And clearly it was the counter. A stick of butter on the counter, for a few days never hurt anyone. And why anyone would want to struggle with spreading hard butter on his or her toast every morning was beyond her. The battle that at one point the two had been very vocal about had turned silent. It really grinded her gears when she came home from work every day to see the butter dish in the fridge. But instead of fighting with him about it, she now just calmly placed it on the counter every afternoon and multiple times throughout the evening until he went to work.

It was a wonderful morning when she was able to wake up and find her butter soft and spreadable instead of cold and stiff.

And as much as she scowled and rolled her eyes at him, she knew that there was just a small part of her, buried deep inside, that enjoyed these little games they played. The little jabs they took at each other. The arguments they had with smirking smiles and flashing tempers…it was fun.

"Miss Day?"

Glancing up Jess looked around her, confused as she watched her students shuffling around, gathering their books and papers up. Drawing her attention to the student in front of her she forced a bright smile on her face.

"Ummm, Joseph, ummm what, what's up? What are you doing?"

The young boy looked at her skeptically. "The bell rang Miss Day. Is there homework?"

She shook her head. She had planned on giving them a take home assignment, but her thoughts were too all over the place for her to pull that assignment up.

"Um not today. Enjoy the night off." She nodded to the rest of her students that had stuck around to see if she would be assigning anything, mentally noting the ones who had booked it out of the classroom before she had officially dismissed them.

Joseph grinned at her. "Thanks Miss Day!" And turning he rushed from the classroom with his friends, moving fast, like she might decide to change her mind last minute.

Frowning, she began to collect her things. She could not, would not, let her own personal issues keep her from doing her job. That was intolerable. No more thinking about reliable boyfriends and grumpy roommates at work.

Unacceptable.

The car however, was a different story.

On her drive home, all twenty minutes of it, she debated with herself. No longer internally, she actually spoke her thoughts out loud.

"Don't be stupid Jess you have something good going here."

"Yeah but you guys have zero chemistry."

"Not true! He makes you laugh…err chuckle…err smile. And the sex really is very good."

"You're not hard to please in that department sister."

"Shut up."

Huffing out a sigh in annoyance, she decided her own voice was most definitely irritating her and opted to keep her thoughts inside of her head. So she and Russell shared very little chemistry. The small amount they had in the beginning of their relationship had quickly faded to almost nothing, but that was okay. They had something good going. It was comfortable. It was _nice_. And yes, maybe he looked at her like she was slightly immature and bizarre at times, but so did Nick.

And why for the love of God was she bringing up _him _again?

She bit her lip and reminded herself to concentrate on her driving.

But really, why was she thinking of him again?

Because when he looked at her in that condescending way, raising his eyebrows at her immature antics, and eccentric behavior, she couldn't help but notice that slight glimmer of _something _in his eyes. Sometimes it was amusement, sometimes it was tenderness, and sometimes it was…something else.

And it was that something else that often times made her want to march up to him and knock that haughty expression right off his face using a variety of physical and mutually pleasing ways to do so.

As she pulled into her parking spot near their apartment building she leaned her head against the steering wheel.

It was thoughts like that…physical and passionate thoughts about Nick... that really were going to get her into a lot of trouble.

Maybe she should end things with Russell.

Maybe she was being unfair to him.

Groaning at that, she opened her car door, slamming it shut behind her she stared up at the apartment building, briefly wondering if Nick was home.

As she walked into the building and decided on the stairs rather than the elevator, thinking the extra exercise would do her good, she attempted once more to try to figure herself out.

Passion was not a necessity in a relationship.

Passion could get you into trouble.

Passion was really overrated.

She needed stability.

She needed someone to balance her out.

And before that inner voice could annoyingly interrupt her about all the ways _he _could balance her out, she told it to shut up.

Stopping in front of her apartment door she stared at it a moment and tried to shake away the last of her lingering thoughts on passion, relationships, her boyfriend and her roommate. Placing her hand on the knob she pulled the door open, and walked inside. Shutting it with a sigh, she leaned against it, briefly closing her eyes. Taking a moment, she told herself her thoughts really had been ridiculous and there was no reason for her to end a completely stable, healthy, and committed relationship.

Absolutely absurd.

Smirking at herself for being so silly she pushed away from the door with a determined little nod and walked towards the kitchen. She stopped short when she saw him there; leaning against the counter drinking a glass of water.

"Hey Jess." He nodded at her giving her a small smirk.

Her confidence about her healthy, stable, and committed relationship, slowly faded as her attention was drawn to his smirking mouth.

His smirks had the tendency to infuriate her for some reason.

"Hey." She nodded back trying to act casual. Hoping none of her previous inner turmoil was evident in her voice. It wasn't like Nick was a mind reader though. He had no way of knowing anything she had been thinking.

She was fine.

Everything was just fine.

But then she glanced at the counter and she felt a small frown form on her lips.

"The butter." She whispered softly, feeling her cheeks heat with a flush of anger.

Nick raised an eyebrow and placed his glass in the sink before turning back to her.

"In the fridge." He stated a smug smile on his lips.

_Don't_, she tried to tell herself. Don't let yourself get upset about something so silly.

Too late.

"Nick why do you have to do that!"

"Because that's where it belongs Jess." He stated in a flat somewhat condescending tone.

She was too tired, her brain was too fried, to think about, _really think_ about what she was going to let herself get riled up over.

She pointed to the counter.

"No, no, no, no! It belongs on the counter! The counter! Not the fridge, the counter!"

Her voice had raised a notch, she was just short of shouting, and she watched as he flinched slightly at her outburst. But before she had a chance to feel any satisfaction at his clearly surprised reaction, a slow challenging smile made its way across his mouth, and he leveled her with his dark gaze.

That smile, that gaze, never failed in making her blood boil, when directed towards her in that particular way. And if she was being truly honest with herself, it never failed in making her lady parts feel all kinds of twirly.

Pathetic.

She felt her anger rise slightly at the irritating and distracting thoughts.

Storming towards the refrigerator she narrowed her eyes as he beat her there, blocking her path.

"Get out of the way." She demanded. Her hands on her hips.

"Jess. Let's stop this grade school fight okay? I know it might be a bit difficult for you, being around kids all day, but let's just chalk it up to I'm right, you're wrong, call it a day and keep the butter in the fridge…where it belongs."

His lazy tone, the way his eyes were roaming over her, was killing her.

He was slowly killing her. Driving her mad…over butter.

Because this was about butter…right?

She stood her ground.

"Move Nick. The butter belongs on the counter." She went to move past him, but he refused to budge. Frustrated, she pushed at him, which only caused him to laugh.

"I'm going to punch you in the face."

He grinned at that. It was quite obvious he was thoroughly enjoying her irritation.

"Fiesty Jess...I like that."

She narrowed her eyes. "Move."

He shook his head, his grin widening, his dark eyes; like black diamonds glittering in amusement.

"Nick I'm seriously not in the mood. I've had a long day, a lot on my mind, and I have zero patience. If you don't move from in front of the refrigerator I'm going to be forced to get physical."

He cocked his head, considering her. The amusement slowly faded from his eyes as he contemplated her words. She swallowed thickly as she noticed the look of seriousness cross his face. There was something about his look of concentration, the lack of amusement in his eyes, the way his mouth had smoothed into a straight line, that made her knees go a bit weak and her head feel a bit dizzy.

"Careful what you say Jess." He said. His voice was low and deep, a warning softly laced through it.

For a moment it was difficult to speak. For a moment she forgot that they were fighting over something as stupid as butter. For a moment she let his deep voice gently wrap itself around her and his dark eyes slowly pull her in.

For a moment she almost forgot herself.

And then his mouth was twitching upwards into a smirk, and she remembered. She remembered that he was Nick, and she was Jess. They were roommates. They were roommates with a slightly fiery, sometimes hostile relationship. A relationship that hinted and simmered with the possibility of something more. Something she wasn't ready to admit to yet.

So she ignored it.

Because she had a steady and stable boyfriend...and really passion be damned.

Scowling she stepped up to him and before she could think better of it, placed her hands on his arms and tilted her head up towards him.

"Move, I want the butter on the counter, and you are in my way. Move." She pulled at him trying, to physically remove him from in front of the refrigerator, but as she struggled to move him, she knew her attempts were in vain.

He stood solidly in place.

"Jess. Seriously. Is this really about butter?"

His tone, slightly mocking, got under her skin and she put all of her weight into her struggles.

"I want the butter on the counter!" Her voice sounded slightly erratic in her own ears, but she didn't care. She was angry, and twirly, and mad as hell that this man...this grumpy, mocking, ruggedly handsome man was getting under her skin. He was making her blood boil, and her heart pound...over butter.

Butter!

"Move!" She yelled at him, aware she was losing her control.

He glanced down at her, smirking at her efforts. "Careful Jess." His voice was soft, but his eyes flashed with a dark intensity.

"Nick I swear if you don't move I'm going to..."

Her sentence was broke off on a yelp as she found herself being turned and pushed up against the refrigerator. Her arms were locked to her sides, secure in his iron grip, and his body pressed into her lightly, pushing her back up against the large appliance. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him.

Chest heaving, pulse racing, heart pounding.

"What do you think you are doing? Let go!" With her arms firm in his grip, she used her hips to push against him in an effort to move away. But that proved useless, and only made her much more aware of the intimate position he had put them in.

"Nick I swear to God..."

"Shut up Jess. Just shut up."

Furious she opened her mouth to let him have it, but was rudely cut off once more.

Only this time it was by his lips crashing down onto hers.

She tried, really tried to push away that annoying little voice in her head that triumphantly celebrated that this, _this_, was what she craved. This was what she desired. This was what she wanted, needed, demanded.

But she couldn't.

And she wouldn't deny it anymore.

So she took it.

She threw caution to the wind and she met him hungrily kiss for kiss, moaning into him, leaning into his embrace.

It was thrilling, it was wrong, it was intoxicating.

And she wanted more.

Had to have more.

She struggled to break free of his hold so she could wrap her arms around his neck and fall into the kiss more thoroughly, but he refused to let her go. Refused to give her the upper hand, or even equal ground. Instead he pushed against her, the contact of their bodies causing her to moan into his lips, and when she found her arms pinned on either side of her head she couldn't help the breathy sigh that whooshed out of her and the thrill of excitement that coursed through her.

Passion.

This was passion.

No wonder people craved it so much. It was exhilarating.

As his tongue danced with hers, she continued to struggle to release her hands from his hold. She had to touch him. She had been denying this, denying herself for way too long.

And now that she was here, and taking it, she wanted it all.

As his lips moved from her mouth to her neck and focused on the sensitive spot just below her ear, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the refrigerator.

"Nick please." She whispered, she would beg him if she had to.

She felt his mouth curve into a smile against her neck. "Please what?"

"Let go of my hands, let me touch you."

He lifted his head at her words and stared down into her face. His eyes were a passion filled stormy black. And while she had begged him to release her, at that moment she thanked God that she was firmly in his grip as she was sure she would have melted to the floor had he not been holding her up.

"Jess."

"Please, I need, I need to so bad I…"

"Jess…Jess? JESS!"

She opened her eyes confused at the yelling, and looking around her she began to blink furiously. She was leaning against the apartment door, her eyes had been closed, and good God her body was hot.

"Jess?"

"What ummm hmmm?"

Nick stared at her, standing in the entryway a sandwich in one hand, a beer in the other. He wore a completely flabbergasted expression on his face.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Her face was on fire. Realization slowly set in. Had she really imagined, day dreamed, that whole scenario up? Looking at Nick's confused and slightly concerned expression, she realized that indeed she had.

"Nothing, I…nothing. God it's hot in here. Are you hot? I'm on fire."

"You were completely zoned out. For like five minutes."

Had it only been five minutes, it had felt much longer. Shaking her head, she tried to rid herself of the lingering images from her extremely inappropriate thoughts. Glancing up at him, she tilted her head, considering him.

His eyebrows were raised in question, the concern and confusion had faded away and were replaced by slight amusement. A ghost of a smirk played across his lips.

"You need more sleep Jess."

"Your mother needs more sleep." She winced as the words left her mouth.

He chuckled and walking into the living room, shook his head. "Weird…sometimes you are just flat out weird."

She nodded at that, she couldn't argue with him there. Following him, she tried her hardest not to fan herself. But really, her whole body was just so hot, and tingly, and good God she could have sworn that kiss was real. Glancing over at the kitchen counter she stopped in her tracks.

Her butter wasn't there.

And her blood began to boil, and her pulse began to race.

She glanced over at him and watched as that ghost of a smirk turned into an outright smile. And as she made a step towards the fridge still watching him, she noticed as he raised a brow in challenge.

And then she remembered a different scenario.

The scenario that had played out in her head only moments before.

And she looked at him in question.

And she considered him briefly as his dark eyes held hers for a moment longer than they should have.

And that little annoying voice of hers began to taunt her and her brain began to torment her with images of hot kisses against large appliances, and the feel of bodies pressed intimately together.

Turning on her heel, she stalked into her room and slammed the door behind her.

She wasn't taking any chances.

The End.

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**So yeah just a fun little one-shot. Slightly more "M" than my last one right? Although I have a feeling maybe not quite enough "M"...**

**Sorry!**

**You can still review though... ;)  
**


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